


Things Best Unremembered

by MoonlitMusings



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Angst, Cecil Is Not Described, Gen, Memories, Mild Gore, Nightmares, The Desert Otherworld, Triptych, kevin is not described
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-27
Updated: 2016-09-27
Packaged: 2018-08-18 03:49:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8148202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonlitMusings/pseuds/MoonlitMusings
Summary: Kevin has started having nightmares for the first time he can remember. Nightmares about voices, and his old radio booth. Nightmares that seem strangely like memories, and that reveal some things he doesn't quite know how to process.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a prompt from moonfireshadow on tumblr. "A moment where like Kevin remembers Cecil saying they would defeat Strex? You can choose if Kevin is on a road to recovery and if he is on good terms w/ Cecil or not."
> 
> I imagine this taking place in the Desert Otherworld sometime after Carlos has left, and this sort of being a catalyst for Kevin starting to de-strexify a bit. It does not, however, leave him on good terms with Cecil.
> 
> Also, shout out to the cecilspeaks blog for existing and making it easy for me to look up the bits of dialogue from Triptych.

The first time Kevin woke from a nightmare, he was as confused as he was unsettled. He could only remember ever having pleasant dreams before. Dreams of productive days and sunshine and blood and smiles. This was different. There was blood, and light, and smiles, but in his dream it felt… wrong. It was only flashes, but they weren’t happy. They were full of… fear? He thought that might be what it was. He tried to shake it off after that first time, but then, a few days later it happened again. More than flashes this time, he saw scenes. He saw smiling Strex employees filing through the doors of his old radio station. He heard screams and helicopters outside. He smelled blood, and for some strange reason gagged at the scent. He woke shaking, confused and truly afraid for the first time since, well, he didn’t like to think about that day. It was not a happy day. He felt relieved when the next three nights were dreamless. Maybe it was just a fluke. A random bit of strangeness that he shouldn’t worry about. The fourth night proved this to be untrue.

Again, there was his old booth, but it was clean of blood, bone, and viscera. He was sitting in his chair, headphones on, equipment sitting on the desk in front of him. There was a crackle in his headset, and he thought he heard a voice for a moment before he blinked, and suddenly the room was exactly how it had been when he’d left: blood on the console, teeth scattered across the floor, everything damp and slightly sticky, with that familiar metallic tang in the air. Homey. He turned to take it all in, blinked again, and it was back to being neat, clean, and bloodless, the warm tones on the wall due to burnt orange and coffee brown paint rather than the deep red stains that had adorned them only a moment before. Suddenly there was a voice in his ears. A familiar voice. Deep, resonant, and not a particular favorite of his.

_“Kevin?”_

“Cecil?”

 _“Yes, Kevin? I'm– I’m here.”_ Kevin was about to speak again, but before he could, he heard another voice. It was… his voice? His voice, but, different somehow.

_“Oh, good, I got you back. Lost you there for a moment. Anyway, as I was saying, Strex wants to buy the radio station, but I’ll never let them. I’ll fight them off, Cecil! I’ll defeat them!”_

“What?!” Kevin exclaimed, growing more agitated by the second. He blinked and the room returned to its bloodied state, but the voices in his headphones continued.

_“Ah, it’s **this** version of you.”_

_“There is only me, Cecil. I’m the only me there is! And we’re gearing up to push Strex out.”_

“What? But, why? Why would I…” He blinked and the room changed again, but this time it didn’t look so well-kept. It seemed different. The lights were brighter, but rather than enhance the warmth of the room, they washed everything out, bathing it in a sickly florescence. There was a slight layer of dust over most of the room, aside from the chair and the microphone. Cobwebs hung in the corners. Suddenly he was stricken with a terrible sense of panic. Beyond his headphones, outside the studio door, he heard the sound of several people walking towards the room, their shoes creating a sound on the carpet that should have been far too quiet to hear, but somehow managed to thunder in his ears. In his headphones, the voices continued.

 _“…we have all had our differences in the past, sure, and we will have our differences again. We can’t always be happy. But we love each other. We are a community.”_ Suddenly, a knock on the door. Three sharp, quick raps, followed by yet another familiar voice.

“Kevin?” Lauren Mallard sing-songed on the other side of the door. Kevin said nothing, an inexplicable sense of panic taking away his ability to speak. Meanwhile, the self he did not recognize continued to chat cheerfully with the man who had helped take everything from him.

_“A town is its people, and the good and the bad of them. And that is what we are going to fight for. That is what we are going to **win** for. Hey, you’re from the future! That means you know how this turns out!”_

_“Well, uh, y–yes, I do.”_

“Kevin? We know you’re in there, Kev! Why don’t you let us in?”

“No!” He suddenly yelled, his mouth moving without his permission. “I won’t give in! You may have bought everything else, but I will never give up this station!” He didn’t know where these words were coming from, but they wouldn’t stop.

“Silly Kev, we don’t want you to give it up!” Lauren replied, her voice dripping a friendly cheerfulness that seemed to hit his ear wrong, even though he couldn’t tell why. “In fact, we want you to stay! We just want to make some improvements is all. Increase productivity, streamline everything, and help make the show more cheerful! We want to help you make people happy, Kevin. We want to make _you_ happy.” Suddenly, the lights flickered, and the room flashed bloody and red.

_“So? Do I win? Does everything go just as right as right could be?”_

_“…Yes.”_

“Yes?” Another flicker, this time back to warm colored walls and sparkling equipment.

 _“You win, Kevin. Everything goes right. You and community radio prevail. And you are happier than ever. Desert Bluffs is a wonderful town, and you live happily in it.”_ Another flicker, back to too-bright lighting and dust.

“Yes? Yes we can come in? I’m so happy you’re coming around, Kevin! I knew you would eventually.”

Flicker, back to blood. Another flicker, to cleanliness. Yet another, back to dust. The light kept flickering, the room changing each time, its appearance switching faster and faster while the sounds continued around him.

_“Oh! That’s such good news! Thanks for telling me. I can’t wait for the future to come! Though, I have no choice but to wait, I suppose. That’s how the future works, scientists keep insisting. Scientists are the worst, right?”_

Flicker. Flicker. Flicker.

Suddenly the doorknob rattled. Kevin felt his stomach drop, suddenly heavy with a dread he couldn’t understand.

Flicker, flicker, flicker, flicker, flicker…

“Kev? How about you unlock this door so we can talk more about this new partnership.”

_“Well, I’m sure I’ll talk to you again at some point in my life.”_

The door rattled, as though it was being shaken from the other side.

“Kevin…” Lauren’s sing-song tone now had a sharp edge to it. Kevin moved further back in his chair, his breath coming in pants, the sound of his heartbeat thundering in his ears, adding to the cacophony.

Flicker flicker flicker flicker flicker-

_“You win, Kevin.”_

“Kevin…”

The door shook harder, the sounds of pounding and scratching coming from the other side.

Flickerflickerflickerflickerflicker-

_“You win.”_

“Kevin!”

_“Desert Bluffs is a wonderful town, and you live happily in it.”_

“Let us in, Kevin!”

_“You win.”_

_“Until next time, Cecil. Until next ti–“_

 

Suddenly, all was black and silent. Kevin jolted up, gasping, covered in sweat. His heart was still racing, as were his thoughts. Confusion, disbelief, denial, fear, he had no clue how to handle all the emotions rushing through him. From his jumbled thoughts, one phrase stuck out among all the rest.

_“You win, Kevin.”_

He had heard the strange version of himself ask Cecil if he kept Strex from taking over the radio station.

_“You win, Kevin.”_

He had asked if he had driven Strex out of Desert Bluffs.

_“You win, Kevin.”_

He had been so happy when Cecil responded that he did. That he would.

_“You win, Kevin.”_

Cecil had _lied_.


End file.
